


First

by noplacespecial



Category: Instant Star
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noplacespecial/pseuds/noplacespecial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't happen at the loft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First

**Author's Note:**

> Written for PornBattle XIV (I think?); prompts were _sex, star, famous, album, sleep_. Goes minorly AU from "Your Time is Gonna Come".

It doesn't happen at the loft.

Jude takes two hours getting ready and feels ridiculous the whole time, wondering how Sadie does it every day. But she puts in the time, shaves and moisturizes and applies as much makeup as she feels comfortable with, which leaves her somewhere between her normal amount and Sadie's normal amount. She blushes the entire way through her trip to Victoria's Secret, but the thought of the look on Tommy's face makes the whole thing worthwhile.

Except that nothing goes as planned, and they end up in a fight, leaving her standing in the middle of a room that reeks of teenage boy, in see-through lingerie with Kyle's iguana gaping at her from the corner. She blows out the candles and throws everything angrily into the trash, not even caring if the guys find it and figure out what went down - or rather, what didn't.

At home in her own bed, alone, she's still pissed as hell at Tommy. But she's also amped up from spending all day thinking about sex, thinking about giving into the one guy who drives her crazier than anyone else. And though she's so mad she could slap him, she still finds her fingers drifting down beneath the sheets, past the waistband of the pajamas she chose to wear to bed, the least sexy pair she owns. She lets herself pretend, fantasize, imagine the evening the way it was supposed to happen - the slack-jawed expression when he sees her, immediately locking the door behind him and crossing the floor to press her into the mattress, carefully undoing the ties on her sexy new purchase, callused fingers finding every inch of her that he has and hasn't yet touched. She stifles her moans into her pillow and comes quickly, the release her body has been seeking all day, but it leaves her feeling hollow.

~*~

It doesn't happen at the loft the second time.

Her shirt is somewhere on the other side of the room and she's got Tommy's fly halfway undone when Wally and Kyle burst through the door, falling silent at the sight in front of them.

"Dudes. Not in front of Lester!" Kyle scolds, gesturing to the terrarium. Jude flops back on the bed, unconcerned with her state of undress; they've all seen way too much of each other after spending all those months cramped together on a tiny tour bus.

"You didn't lock the door," she groans. Tommy throws his hands up.

"It's not like I planned on this!" he protests. In the corner, Kyle is cradling the iguana to his chest, covering its eyes with his hand.

"I'm so sorry buddy," he murmurs. Jude sighs.

"Somebody hand me my shirt."

~*~

It doesn't happen in Thailand. 

The paparazzi get wind of their arrival, and are waiting for them, flashbulbs ready, when they disembark from the plane. They're not positive exactly how their travel plans got leaked, but Tommy assumes that someone overheard them discussing the trip at G Major. Regardless, they're followed from the second they land to the second they leave.

It's not that they don't have fun - there's a lot of lazing around in swimsuits and drinks on the beach and cuddling close at night. It's the first time they've ever shared a bed, and that alone is a pretty intense new experience, but it was supposed to be more than that. Neither of them had cameras in mind when they booked the open-air beach hut, however, flanked with gauzy curtains but no actual windows to close, and neither of them want to risk getting something caught on tape. So they curl around one another under the sheets and enjoy the skin-on-skin contact, enjoy waking up in a tangle of limbs, and they make it be enough.

~*~

It doesn't happen at Jude's house.

They get back from Thailand late. *Very* late. Both of them have to be at the studio tomorrow and Jude's house is closer, so it just makes sense to crash there. Kwest and Sadie's cars are both in the driveway when Jude unlocks they front door and they load in their luggage as quietly as possible.

Jet lag has them unable to get much sleep, and almost as soon as Jude's head hits the pillow, she finds herself waking back up to Tommy kissing her neck. She enjoys it, goes along with it, lifting her chin to meet his lips with her own. Then his fingers toy with the drawstring of her pajama pants, and she slaps them away.

"In a house with your best friend and your ex, who also happens to be my sister, just a few rooms away? Really?" she says. Tommy shrugs.

"Let them hear us," he responds lowly, scratching a light circle around her bellybutton with his fingernail. The muscles in Jude's stomach clench, but she resolutely shoves at his shoulder.

"Not gonna happen." Songwriters are supposed to suffer heartbreak and humiliation, but she's got to draw the line somewhere. Tommy groans and buries his face in the pillow.

"You're killing me, Harrison."

~*~

It doesn't happen at Tommy's apartment.

The night is perfect - they've got candlelight, wine, no interruptions, and time to take it slow. Jude's foot works its way up the cuff of Tommy's pants during dinner, and he slips his hands under her shirt to rub her back as they pretend to watch a movie. She's just pulled the garment over her head when Tommy's phone rings. He glances at it disinterestedly, but makes a face when he reads the call screen.

"It's Darius," he informs her.

"It's the weekend," Jude retorts. Tommy sighs heavily, his eyes lingering on her sprawled on his couch in her bra.

"I've gotta take it. As great as it's been being back in the studio with you, he could make it all disappear on a whim. You know him - he's punished people for less." Jude knows he's right, but it doesn't stop her from pouting like a sullen child.

"This is getting ridiculous," she complains, really not caring how whiny she's being right now. Tommy takes one last, long look at her before he hits redial.

"It really is," he agrees.

~*~

In the end, it happens at G Major.

They've been there all day, working and re-working the track that they're hoping could be the breakaway hit of Jude's third album in between the various other disasters that inevitably seem to occur in-house, like a fight between SME and last-minute changes to Karma's set list for her upcoming showcase. The day is kind of a blur, with short pauses here and there for stale coffee and cold Chinese takeout, and by the time either of them even thinks about packing it in, it's past midnight and everyone else has already cleared out.

"Come on," Jude says, nudging Tommy's thigh with her foot. "As charmingly bohemian as it would be to literally live in the studio, I would like to see my bed sometime this century." They're sprawled out on one of the couches, the surrounding area littered with instruments, sheet music, and scribbled notes. It's so close to being done, just a few little tweaks and some fine-tuning before they can start recording, but they're both useless this tired.

"*I'd* like to see your bed sometime this century," Tommy complains. Jude grins and clambers across the couch to loom over him.

"Why wait?" she says, and kisses him. Tommy puts up a token protest, pulling back and shaking his head.

"We shouldn't-"

"You talk too much," Jude interrupts, kissing him again. Tommy grunts, but when she starts fumbling at the buttons of his shirt, he helps her out, and tugs at her own. The studio is cavernous at night, every noise they make seeming to echo across the room, and something about it makes it all the more intimate, despite the setting. Every time Jude gasps, Tommy groans, it's magnified tenfold. And in a way, she thinks, it's quite fitting. This is where they first met, where they've spent the majority of their lives for the last four years, where they've had so many significant moments in their relationship. She kisses Tommy fiercely, throwing every missed opportunity into the embrace, and reaches for his belt buckle.

She shivers when it's over, the cold air hitting both of their sweat-slicked skin and causing goosebumps to rise from head to toe. Tommy runs his hands up and down her arms to warm her flesh.

"So..." he looks down at her, gestures awkwardly, moves his mouth a few times, but can't seem to come up with anything to say. Jude smiles fondly.

"I love you," she responds. His entire face relaxes, and he presses a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm sorry it wasn't perfect," he says. Jude snorts.

"I don't need perfect. I just need you. Don't you know that by now?" They're both quiet for a moment, just letting the magnitude of the situation sink in. Then:

"Wanna go do it on Darius' desk?"

"Oh hell yes."


End file.
